Rhiannon Neal

The tuskar’s talons curled limp just above the grass as Lenna gently spread the footpads open. Grunts sounded but the beast did not resist as she searched for signs of injury. What the Abyss could Momo have stepped on out here in the flat plains? 

Her mount’s limp had slowed them to a crawl and if they didn’t reach Renthis in the next two days, the buyer for the diamonds in the saddlebag would move on. There was no sign of injury on Momo’s carapaced foot beyond the beast’s refusal to put weight on it. 

So it’s not a surface injury. Lenna took hold of Momo's fetlock and carefully lowered the foot to the ground, applying increasing pressure. But as she pushed the foot harder into the grassy terrain, Momo offered no resistance, allowing her to press on until his full weight was on it. She let go, confused, and the beast’s foot flew back up, kicking dirt into her face and stinging her eyes.

“Dammit Momo! If we don’t get to Renthis soon, I’ll run out of gold and won’t be able to buy your feed. Can you try to cooperate just a bit?” Kneeling back down for the foot, she felt a soft movement against her back near her rucksack. She craned back to see Momo’s scaled neck outstretched, his nose in her bag. The beast jerked away, munching on the sandwich she'd been saving for lunch. Momo’s foot rested on the ground, apparently perfectly healthy. 

Lenna cursed her own foolishness. After riding Momo so far across the continent, she should have remembered food was the most important thing to a tuskar. Next time, she would not fall for his tricks so easily.